Chills Page 16

  “Bad?”

  Jack poured the brandy down his throat in one gulp and reached for the decanter. “Yes, very bad.”

  Hallam took the decanter. “You better let me do that. More in the glass is preferable to wasting it on the furniture.”

  As Jack raised his refilled glass to his lips, a wisp of color hovered at the door. Pixie moved into the room and directly to him. He wrapped her in his arms as she sobbed her heart out.

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked, after giving her time to calm down.

  She shook her head and burrowed deeper into his coat, her hands exploring his inner pockets to find his handkerchief.

  “Virginia told me what happened,” Pixie sobbed, wriggling as she wiped her eyes.

  Hallam’s breath hissed out beside them, followed by a lengthy series of curses.

  “Were you there, Hallam? Did you carry her from the house and bring them home?” Pixie turned in Jack’s arms to glimpse Hallam’s distraught face.

  Jack kept hold. What Pixie saw would make everything clearer. Hallam cared a great deal for a woman who’d married a monster. He knew everything that transpired the night Jack had almost lost Virginia.

  “I was with Jack when he became ill,” Hallam stated briskly. “We guessed Virginia was in trouble.”

  “You guessed. I thought it was my dinner,” Jack replied, forever grateful for Hallam’s clear thinking that night.

  “Thank you. Thank you for taking care of them,” she whispered.

  Hallam nodded. “It was nothing.”

  “Not nothing. Virginia needed you, just as she does now.”

  “Has she remembered everything?”

  Pixie shrugged. “She didn’t say much, but perhaps you could fill in the gaps for her. You were with her, weren’t you?”

  Hallam nodded, turned on his heel, and stalked out.

  “Are you matchmaking, Pixie?” Jack pulled her tight to him, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

  “Yes, well, I doubt I could make a career of it. What do I know about anything?”

  Jack turned her and lifted Pixie’s chin so he could see her eyes. They were red from crying, but so achingly familiar. “A great deal, I think. You bring sunshine just by being here. Everybody loves being near you, Pixie.”

  “I’m sure you can’t wait to see the back of me,” she whispered.

  “Shh, don’t say such nasty things. You’re distressed.” He rubbed his hand over her back soothingly. “I thought we had gotten past arguing over nothing.”

  Holding Pixie close demolished Jack’s anxiety. Hallam would be with Virginia now. He had no doubts that Hallam would confess his part in the business at last, and there would be one less reason for tension between his sister and his friend.

  Pressing a kiss to Pixie’s hair, Jack committed himself to courting her. If she felt even the tiniest portion of the bliss he felt now, they could have a good life together.

  Pixie’s breath puffed warm through the fine linen of his shirt and against his skin. Nipples hardening, he berated himself. He really was trying to give comfort and it was bad form to get an erection in the process. But this attraction was too potent to ignore. Surely, she must feel it too.

  “How did you leave matters with Blamey?” Jack really did not want to talk about him, but it might help to prolong this embrace.

  “I don’t believe he will call again,” Pixie confessed. “And his absence won’t bother me in the least. I’ll be assured of a long life without him.”

  Pixie’s hands settled at his waist, skimming under the bottom edge of his waistcoat. Damn, she could arouse him without trying. He crushed the urge to grind his hips into her, but he could not stop his breath from churning in and out.

  “Perhaps Blamey isn’t a good choice for a long and healthy life. Especially if you want to travel,” he murmured. But the thought of bending down and kissing those soft lips proved very difficult to ignore.

  “I would like to travel, but it doesn’t seem likely.”

  Pixie drew small circles on his shirt with her fingertips, keeping time with his own hand movements across her back.

  A rush of desire swept his skin. He gulped. “You will have to tell me where you would like to go. I’m sure something can be arranged.”

  “That is kind of you, but not now.”

  Constance twisted her head and pressed her cheek against his chest. He told his hands to behave as they brushed down the length of her back—kept away from the derrière he longed to stoke by a willpower he was surprised he had. When she drew in a great, shuddering breath, his pulse quickened.

  “You should get some rest, Pixie. It has been a long day,” Jack murmured into her hair.

  She did not answer. He leaned sideways to see her face and found her asleep in his arms. He nudged her. Her eyes flickered then shut again. She was faking. Amused, Jack picked her up and juggled her to reach the latch for the secret passageway.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to bed.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, his desire almost blinded him. He couldn’t act on it tonight. It was too soon. She had only just buried her past dislike of him. If he attempted to make love to her tonight he was afraid she might laugh.

  Since Pixie was tiny and weighed next to nothing, he navigated the tunnel easily without hitting her feet against the walls. He passed through his sitting room, out onto the balcony, and entered her bedchamber quickly, hoping no one saw them like this. Luckily, her maid was not in the room.

  Pixie didn’t speak as he pulled the balcony door closed behind him and tried to decide what to do. Put her on the bed alone or join her there? Perhaps he shouldn’t ask himself questions.

  At the bedside, he tried to be dispassionate about the situation, but he found it hard. She slipped her shoes from her feet while he pulled the pins from her hair, then he tucked her into bed, day gown and all, ignoring the desire to play with the dark strands of hair that spilled over her pillow.

  Jack pulled the blankets over her shoulders and was surprised when Pixie grabbed his hand. She kept her eyes closed and that was probably a good thing. She would not see the erection tenting his breeches that way.

  He leaned down, pressed his lips to her hair. “Thank you for helping Virginia. Your presence has made such a difference. I think she will be able to let go of the past and move on now.”

  He kissed her hair again, but she clutched at his hand tighter.

  “Stay with me,” she murmured sleepily, “until I fall asleep.”

  Jack could not have been more shocked. That was a dangerous thing to suggest, given his state. He was not sure he could trust himself to behave. The thought made him angry. He would prove his mind the master of his body.

  “Just this once, little one.” He brushed her hair away from the pillow and lowered himself on top of the blankets. “Lift your head.”

  He hoped this was truly what she wanted. The day had been so full of drama that she’d hardly know what she was doing. He wasn’t sure he did.

  When he had her settled in the crook of his arm, her back to his front, she pulled his hand around her and up between her breasts. Desire threatened to overwhelm him as she held his fingers close to her heart. The warmth of her skin, so provocative, so wonderfully tempting that he had to stroke his fingers just a little.

  She didn’t shriek, but grumbled in pleasure before falling fast asleep.

  ~ * ~

  Bernard scratched on Virginia’s door and stepped in without waiting on a response. The room was cool and dark and he crossed the chamber, grabbed a lump of wood and brought the fire back to life. Rubbing his hands, he sat back, and waited for Virginia to speak.

  “How long were you with me?”

  Bernard wouldn’t lie. “Every day.”

  He stood and turned toward the sound of her voice. Virginia had curled up on the window seat, watching him come with firelight reflecting off her tired eyes. He slowly sat beside her, terrified of scaring
her again.

  “I should remember clearly, but all that comes to mind was being warm.” Her glance flickered to the flames. “You are very good with fires.”

  “You don’t enjoy being cold. It was the best I could do.”

  “Why is it that I can’t remember?”

  Bernard ran a hand over his face. “Your injuries were very bad. The doctor had to sedate you to treat you. When he finished his work and the potion had worn off, you began to dream and thrash about. I was afraid you would aggravate your injuries so I persuaded the doctor to administer more until you were healing.”

  “You decided?”

  “Jack was … he was not well, I’m afraid. He couldn’t help you and it was tearing him apart. I kept him foxed most of the time. The duke approved wholeheartedly when he arrived.”

  “My uncle saw me?”

  Bernard shook his head. “I would not allow him near you. I knew you wouldn’t want him to see.”

  Bernard watched her absorb that information. The press of her hand to her face was the only sign she was discomforted. He wished he could make this easier for her.

  “I would rather that you hadn’t seen, either,” she whispered.

  “Do you really believe I could stay away after I had glimpsed what that monster had done?”

  He didn’t get an immediate reply, so he left her alone for a few moments to think. He returned to his room, grabbed up a decanter of whiskey and two glasses, and returned to find her where he had left her. He poured two glasses then passed one to her.

  Virginia took his offering, hands trembling, and sipped the amber liquid. When it was all gone, he kept refilling her glass until she started to slump.

  Careful not to frighten her, he took the glass and crouched over her. He sat her up, then slid behind her back. Limp from the effect of the brew, she allowed him to nestle her tight in his arms.

  She raised her hands and they fluttered above his arms as restless as a little wren until he wove them into his embrace. When her head nodded, he pulled her onto his lap, then took her to bed.

  Since she was still dressed, Bernard loosened her gown and let it slide to the floor, ignoring the impulse to run his hands over her curves. Bernard found her nightdress, and then stripped Virginia of her remaining clothes, putting her into the linen before she panicked.

  Virginia’s long hair splashed over his wrists as he found the pins that held it as confined as she had kept her grief. When he pulled back the covers and urged her to lie down, she resisted. This was the difficult part. Despite the cold gripping the chamber, she had always fought against the bedding slipping over her. It was why Bernard had kept the room hot as she recovered.

  “Hush, love,” he whispered. “I promise you, you’re safe with me.”

  Virginia stilled and her gaze rose. In the firelight, her brow puckered. “I remember that.”

  “I am not surprised. I told you as much every night.”

  She let him cover her, and Bernard tucked the blankets tight around her. Slowly, with great care, he lowered his lips and kissed her brow. She didn’t turn away so he breathed out his anxiety and collected the decanter and glasses, removing all traces of his presence.

  “Bernard?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE CARRIAGE WHEEL hit a rut, tossing Constance sideways into Jack’s shoulder. Blushing, she apologized and struggled to her side of the carriage bench.

  “Nothing to forgive.” Jack rapped on the wall of the carriage. “Mr. Whisker, a little more care if you please.”

  The coachman grumbled and Constance hid a smile. The state of the road wasn’t the driver’s fault, but Jack always hated his passengers getting thrown about.

  Across from her, Virginia appeared serene, but Hallam’s face was one constant scowl. Just like Jack’s. Neither man was happy to traipse about in inclement weather, and certainly not to a garden party. But Virginia had been adamant and so here they were, hoping the rain would hold off long enough for the event.

  Jack folded his arms across his chest. “Are you certain we need to attend?”

  “Pixie must be seen about Town if she wishes to be successful in her search,” Virginia assured him.

  Jack’s expression grew pained. “I’m sure there are other events.”

  “A garden party is perfect, and you know it. So much less formal than a ball. Pixie will impress Mr. Abernathy and Lord Bridges, and have ample opportunity to sweep them off their feet. Leave everything to me.”

  Jack clenched his fists, but he didn’t respond. Had he rethought his commitment to helping Constance find a husband? Given her behavior of the past days, she couldn’t blame him. She had not comported herself very well at all.

  Constance’s glance skated across the carriage to where Lord Hallam sprawled. The man’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he watched Jack. That couldn’t be good for anyone. She fidgeted, turning her fan over in her fingers, desperate for the nightmare of her search for a husband to end.

  Could debtor’s prison be all that bad?

  Today was another opportunity to meet and impress the remaining gentlemen. She had two chances left before ruin. She had to do her best to impress. The carriage drew to a stop before the house so that passengers could disembark without suffering from the damp too greatly. Hallam struggled out first, holding out his hand for Virginia.

  The minute Virginia faced away from them, Jack gripped Constance’s hand tight. Since he rarely touched her in public, she looked up in surprise. His blue eyes were unreadable and she waited for him to speak. She thought he might, but he released her hand without a word and climbed out.

  Constance had to take his hand again to alight from the carriage, yet there was no eager pressure in his grip, nothing to indicate feelings of any kind. Virginia linked arms with her, and they swept into the party before the men.

  “Lady Beckwith, such a pleasure to see you today.”

  “Lady Orkney, and this must be the Miss Grange I’ve heard so much about. Welcome, my dear.”

  Constance did her best curtsey, but had to wonder what the lady had heard so much about. Had Jack told more tales? She glanced at him, yet he seemed less interested in the woman than Hallam was. His greeting was little more than a grunt.

  Constance was growing accustomed to Hallam’s brusque ways. He was devoted to her friend, and that was all the recommendation she needed to forgive him his odd habits.

  The damp lawns soaked her slippers though after two steps, but guests mingled in little clusters, appearing oblivious to the discomfort. If not for Virginia at her side, Constance would have turned back. She didn’t want to mix with these people. She didn’t belong. It was one thing to visit with Virginia and Jack—she’d known them before they became the elegant toast of society, but it was quite another to frolic among them as if she were their equal.

  When they stopped at the edge of the terrace, Jack paused too but turned away to join Lord Daventry. Although disappointed to lose his company, Constance brought her mind back to the task at hand. Husband hunting. She shuddered.

  Virginia cleverly placed them within Lord Bridges’ orbit very soon.

  “So, you are Greedy Grange’s daughter,” Lord Bridges exclaimed. “I thought your name was familiar and now that I think on it, you luckily resemble your mother more.”

  Constance had never heard that nickname before. Even though she did not like it, it did suit her late father.

  “I beg your pardon.” Constance glanced at Virginia, but she looked just as puzzled. “Do you have an acquaintance with mother?”

  The lanky man looked down on her from a great height. Constance had to lift her chin painfully to meet his gaze. Discreetly, she inched her body backward so it didn’t hurt her neck so much.

  “Your late father more than your mother. We often played against each other,” Bridges admitted. “I’ve never met a man more prone to a bad hand than Greedy Grange. Never knew when to call it q
uits. Once, he even bet his horse, carriage, and the servants that went with it. Lost, of course, and had to walk home. Do you play?”

  She remembered that particular carriage, and the servants that left with it. “No,” Constance admitted, “not at all.”

  The lord’s gaze held hers a moment then dipped. Appalled that he was obviously ogling her breasts, Constance took a whole step back.

  His smile faltered. “Some people have luck and some don’t. Lady luck shines brightly on my family. There’s something in our blood that must be preserved.”

  “Of course,” she replied. Constance considered Lord Bridges. Too tall, too obviously interested in her body, and far too happy to gamble. Jack had been wrong to consider him as a candidate. She’d prefer debtor’s prison than to marry him. She didn’t want a gambler for a husband, especially a man who believed luck lingered in the blood. What a ridiculous notion. One day he would learn that luck would abandon him and his family without mercy.

  Constance nudged Virginia’s arm gently. Without a word, they left Lord Bridges.

  “I’d never forgive you if you liked him,” Virginia whispered urgently.

  Constance suppressed a smile. “One left.”

  She turned to scan the gathering and saw Jack moving away. He paused beside a pillar and leaned against it. As she studied him, his gaze rose and raked her with such intensity that her cheeks heated. Somehow, she managed a small smile but his stare turned her legs to jelly. When she risked another glance, he’d disappeared into the crowd again.

  She didn’t know what to say to him. In retrospect, she should be ashamed of asking him to stay with her until she fell asleep last night, but it had been heavenly lying snug in his arms. When she married, she hoped her husband would be agreeable.

  If she married.

  Given her dismissal of Lord Bridges, she had one gentleman left to encourage. Mr. Abernathy had seemed an agreeable man when they met at the Huntley Ball. And although he had witnessed her mistake with Jack’s cane, he had appeared amused. Constance lifted up onto the balls of her feet to look about. A recently wealthy gentleman with hair the color of carrots should stand out in the crowd. But with her height so limited, she hadn’t spotted him yet.